In The Beginning, The Dream
by Centroides
Summary: Susan Introduced the Cross over and I just had to play in it. This is the start.


Garrison's Gorillas X The Sentinel

_Thanks to Susan who posted a Garrison's Gorillas X The Sentinel story. I enjoyed it so much I went to her site, Susan's Fan Fiction Stories, and read more. One of the Sentinel series was called GDP, where the Guides, eg. Blair Sandburg, are controlled. In Garrison's Gorillas, Garrison is dominant over Chief so I adapted the story line. Many thanks to Susan for the idea that I just had to run with._

GCAT Series

The Dream

(Prologue)

Chief slid open the sliding glass door and inhaled, filling his lungs with the fresh clean air of the predawn, automatically sorting the smells. After a cold night in the desert, the individual scents were strong and clear. The rain had soaked the desert yesterday and already he could smell the flowers opening, releasing their insect enticing aroma. A pair of coyotes, who had denned about a mile away had left their tracks leading right up to the door. They would soon be raising their pups on the insects, rodents and rabbits that appeared after the rains.

This was his favourite time of the day. The sun would be rising in about ten minutes and the struggle for life would go on but for now the world was fresh and clean. There was a heavy dew on the leaves of the plants that were scattered about the yard but the stones of the sheltered patio were dry. All was at peace, and as it should be. Life was good.

He stepped out onto the patio and inhaled deeply again, filling his lungs with the pure clean air of morning. Lifting his eyes to the horizon, he watched as the sky brightened, pinking with warmth. The stones under his feet were cool as was the fresh breeze that gently caressed his naked chest and legs. The summer's heat had not yet arrived. Chief lifted his arms out to his sides, palms upward, silently uttering the words of Apache welcome to the sun. It was his morning ritual performed each morning since Goyen had taught him so many years ago. He waited with open arms until the bringer of light and life had peeked over the distant hills. With eyes closed, a smile lit his sombre features as the warmth of the sun fell on his face. Life was good. Then finishing the prayer of thanks he lowered his arms and stepped further out into the light. A sound behind him told him he was not alone. His Hearth had also risen early and as was his custom, had waited until Chief had completed his morning ritual. The other man appeared at his shoulder. No words were required. They both knew.

Silently he watched as his Hearth walked past him, over to the pool. His Hearth. It did not seem right to claim him as his, ownership was not the Apache way, but that was what he was. His. The man had given himself to him. He had pledged himself, his life, to Chief. Now it would be up to him to look after his hearth, to protect him, as his hearth would help and guide him. He could not have found a better man. He was smart, loyal and his friend.

Chief watched His Hearth. The way he moved, so gracefully, not like a dancer but like a stallion. His years in the military had honed his natural athleticism. The sunlight glinted on his broad shoulders, shoulders that were well muscled leading down to his sculpted arms. His large hands were held loosely at his sides, their relaxed state belied their abilities. The man could kill with his bare hands, hands that could also soothe a fevered brow. His tanned body was lean, hips narrow, long legs that were well muscled. An athlete's body.

Alone too long, now he was complete.

His Hearth stood for a moment, the sun turning his blonde hair to gold, then with economy of motion he dove into the water. With hardly a splash he began to swim his morning laps. Chief watched for a moment then stepped up to the edge and joined his friend in their morning swim.

Suddenly water was up his nose and in his mouth. He tried to drag air into his screaming lungs but the water entered first. He coughed trying to clear his throat. Finally he managed to get some air. He was not swimming. He was laying curled on the cold hard cement floor of his cell. Instead of a morning swim to start the day he was being subjected to GCAT's idea of a morning wash.

Dragging himself up off the floor he tried to get into the hated kneeling position while the spray continued to pummel him, the position that he had to assume before they would turn off the hose and release him from his cell. Not that out there was any better but at least he had a chance of getting dry and if he was lucky and well behaved, getting some food.

Chief was a Guardian, a man with enhanced senses, he could see better, hear better and detect fainter scents. The story was that he and the few like him were descendants of the Guardians of the ancient tribes of man. They were rare but they did exist. Once they were honoured, now they were feared and thus hated and strictly controlled by the Guardian Center for Assessment and Training. Once recognized as such they were stripped of all rights and became the property of GCAT. There they were given drugs that weakened their sense of self, their independence so they were forced to rely on a Handler. The Handler was trained on how to work their charge, and how to keep them from becoming catatonic or going Cat when the Guardian concentrated too much on one sense. The Handler also knew what to do if they became enraged, or they Flamed. These trained pairs were sent out to Police Forces and eventually the Military. That was to be Chief's fate.

While he waited for his morning injection of Compliance Drug he thought about the dream he had had. Who was that man? Goyen said that Spirit Walkers often saw glimpses of the future in their dreams. They usually had to prepare by fasting and by drinking a special drink. Had he dreamed of the future? He certainly didn't get much to eat here and he had no idea what they put in that injection. What ever it was made his head fuzzy. Was he to meet this man some day? Would he really become his friend? And what was a Hearth? It had seemed so right to call him that. Had he been given a glimpse of what was to come so he could endue the torment he was going through now? He could hope. That was all he could do, and maybe survive long enough to see if it was true. He did not want to think it was all made up from a pain wracked body and a tortured mind.

He would have to wait until later to wonder. The drug was starting to work. The shakiness was receding but so was his ability to think.

"Guardian Up" His day had begun.


End file.
